Short Recap:
Harry rested his head upon his hand and pondered this momentarily. "So Hermione didn't leave because she was scared," he said in a hushed voice. "That tree put it into her head that she was making things worse for me, making me risk more. The one thing I had not understood when she left was why she felt as though she were endangering me. It just does not make sense. If anything, being around me was more of a risk. I mean, maybe she's better off where she is. Malfoy would never be able to kill her, even on orders from Voldemort. Perhaps, it would be best if we just left her there, continued the fight here ourselves."
Ron looked outraged. "Are you kidding me, mate?" he asked more loudly than he meant. "She's with the enemy right this very second, and you want to leave her there?"
"I'm just saying," said Harry, sitting up straight. "If Voldemort wanted her to think she needed to marry that git, I think there's more to the plan than just hurting me. If he needs her so bad, he's not going to harm her."
Ron huffed loudly. But before he could speak, a silver light shot into the room in the shape of an otter, landing on the table in front of them. They both jumped to their feet, knowing exactly who conjured that Patronus. As it's mouth opened, the familiar voice both had long to hear poured from it.
"I am safe. Pay attention to the Daily Prophet for further information. Harry, continue the search without me, I will help you where I am. Ron, please do not leave; stay with him. I ask that neither of you come searching for me, even after tomorrow's edition of the Evening Prophet. I assure you I am still safe. However, I beg the both of you to do as Dumbledore asked of us. I will join you when the time is right. I love you very much."
And with those finally words echoing still in Ron's mind, the silver figure disappeared from site, leaving behind an empty table and two confused young man staring at it.
Buried Myself Alive
Chapter Six
The air within the Burrow was thick with tension the day following the appearance of Hermione's Patronus. Anyone who walked into the kitchen was greeted with the site of Ron grinning broadly as he stuffed his face. By the end of breakfast, everyone was discussing the past nights' events.
"Have either of you thought this could be a trick?" Ginny asked skeptically. "I mean, what if he made her do that. This could be something like the tree."
"Only Order members know to send messages through a Patronus," Ron answered quickly, having already thought this out. "So she wouldn't be able to conjure one if she were forced, remember you need to be thinking happy. And that means she had to have had Malfoy's wand, because remember she does not have hers."
Ginny nodded, still seeming in disbelief over the situation. In her mind, Hermione would only be truly okay when she had walked through the door of the Burrow.
"Do you think she's remembered the tree at all?" she asked. All Harry and Ron did was shrug, for they were growing more impatient for the arrival of another Patronus.
They all awaited the next Patronus, and occasionally Ron was seem glancing out the window, hoping to see it before it came. As night fell, the only form of contact they received from anyone was an owl delivering the Evening Prophet. Ron opened the window which he had been standing at and paid the owl before taking the newspaper. Without sitting down he unfolded it.
"This is what she calls 'further information'?" he shouted loudly after riffling through several pages silently. Both Harry and Ginny jumped from their seats to see what all the fuss was about.
"I do not see how marrying that git makes things better!" he was yelling over an hour later, the newspaper on the floor with several footprints matching Ron's feet all across a half-page article.
"There must be an explanation, Ron," Ginny told him calmly, ushering him to sit down at the kitchen table.
"I don't get it," he said as he rested his head in his hands. "She didn't eat that last fruit, so why did she willingly marry him?"
"The Malfoys must have found a way around it," said Harry. "They might have made some deal or compromise with her. That's the only way I could see Hermione agreeing to that."
Just then the kitchen door flew open and in walked two identical redheads.
"We got the Prophet a little over and hour ago and boy did we see something interesting," said the first one loudly. "Fred came across the strangest little announcement—"
"What a wedding night that must have been!" the one named Fred said.
"How do you feel now?" George exclaimed as they both pulled up chairs adjacent to Ron at the table. He threw them sullied looks before standing up so quickly his chairs fell backwards with a loud thud.
"Don't get started with him right now," Ginny said as he thundered up the stairs and slammed his door.
Fred glanced down at the floor and noticed the littered paper lying there. "I can see he's had a fit about something."
"We heard you received some form of communication from Hermione?" asked George, his face getting serious. "Did she mention anything about marrying the prat?"
"Well," Harry hesitated. "No. She just said to read the Evening Prophet for information."
"From the article it says that they eloped in the middle of the night—"
"Right under Lucius' nose, from what we deduced!" added Fred.
Both Ginny and Harry nodded. "We're hoping she's going to contact us again sometime soon and clear all this up," Harry told them.
They all sat in silence for a moment before the twins both stood up. "Well I believe we've let little Ronald have enough time to cool down, right, George?"
"It seems as if we are of the same mind, Fred."
And before Harry and Ginny could stop them, they had gone up the stairs to pursue their younger brother.
Harry looked over at Ginny. It was the first time they had been alone together for several days it seemed, but in fact in had only been two nights ago that they had exchanged words just outside her room. Without really thinking, Ginny had closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Slowly she felt one of his arms go around her as the other gently pushed her head backwards and cupped her chin.
He was about to say something, but before he could she moved her head upwards and locked him in a kiss unlike any they had ever shared. Every need she had ever had for him came back as he ran his fingers through her hair.
Even as they heard the door upstairs slam shut and the twins run down the stairs laughing they did not break apart.
"Oi, Potter, the last thing we need to see right now is you snogging our sister," said one of them.
Harry smiled as they finally broke apart, but did not let her go. The twins knew they were now uninvited and let with quick 'goodbyes' as the kitchen door fell closed behind them.
His smile quickly diminished as he remembered all the reasons he had broken up with Ginny and he released her, taking a few steps backward. "You should not have—we should not have—I love you too much to risk you as well!" he finally exclaimed.
Ginny hung her head slightly, frowning. "You-Know-Who is obviously too busy making wedding arrangements to care about those close to you right now," she replied, putting her hands on her hips in a fashion very much like her mother. "Harry, I love you, too. Can't you see that? I'm willing to risk that for you."
"Look where loving me got everyone else in my life," he retorted. "So unless you have this sudden urge to die, please do not go throwing yourself in my arms in such a seductive way."
"If anything, you should not try to kiss me!"
"That's what happened only after you'd thrown yourself at me!"
Rage flared on Ginny's face. "I did not throw myself at you, Harry James Potter! I merely hugged you and you turned it into something I was not expecting at all!"
Harry let his arms drop to his side, knowing this was a battle he could not win. He told her a quick 'goodnight' and headed for the stairs.
"Wait one second," she called after him. But the door had already been slammed, and he was gone.
--
Whilst moving their things from Malfoy's room to their new, larger one, Hermione realized it was her birthday. She had been married on the eve of her birthday.
Hermione shook her head slowly. "This is not how I wanted to remember my life," she mumbled almost inaudibly as they opened the door to the plain, but large, white room. "This is not where I wanted to be on the morning of my wedding."
"Well aren't you bright and cheery today," remarked Malfoy. He wasn't in the greatest mood either. Narcissa and Lucius had walked into their room the night before just in time to see the ceremony completed. Afterwards they had rushed the Justice of the Peace from the room and interrogated them both. Finally decided it had been a smart decision of theirs, and that they would be moving into the west wing of the house. "You'd think someone would be happier on their birthday." Hermione cocked a questioning eyebrow as he pulled a flat but good-sized package from an inner pocket of his robes and held it out for her to take. "This might make you feel better, not that I really care or anything, but Mother told me it would be the appropriate thing to do."
She reached out and slowly took it. "Thanks, I guess," she said.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Don't say 'thanks' until you open the bloody package, you nitwit."
Hermione sighed and neatly tore off the brown wrapping paper. Inside was a flat brown box.
"Now open the box," he instructed slowly.
This time Hermione rolled her eyes, but she did as he said.
"It's been in the Malfoy library for centuries," said Malfoy as she looked over the gift with wide eyes. "While I was reading the other day I found it and, as I went to go thrown it in the rubbish bin, I realized that you might actually enjoy it."
She looked up at him from the book in her hands. "This is the original?" she asked, astounded.
He nodded. "Can we get on with the unpacking?" he asked in turn as he backed towards the wardrobe. "This actually turning into a civil and touching moment is starting to severely disturb me."
"Malfoy," Hermione called, holding the original copy of Hogwarts: A History to her chest. "Thank you."
She flipped through its pages diligently, Draco glancing over his shoulder in trivial amusement. He had never seen anyone's face light up when given a book. He started to unpack his box and place his possessions where they belonged. Though it felt wrong for him to leave the room he had spent his entire life in.
"My father probably thinks we've either already consummated the marriage, or are going to, however disgusted by that thought we both must be," he told her as he placed a few books on the empty bookshelf, "It is a start. That helps us out of the one situation we needed to avoid."
She looked up from the book at him. "How long until they try to find out whether or not I'm pregnant?" she inquired. He had explained to her before the ceremony that they would want to know when she was pregnant as soon as it happened.
He thought on this for a moment. "They might give us about a week, and I think that we should stay put in this room for the most part," he clarified. "If we make them think we want to spend time together, they'll only think of one reason. I'm going to request today that they leave us be for a few days while we have a 'honeymoon'."
Granger visibly cringed at the thought. "As long as we don't actually have to do anything, I'll follow along," she agreed. "But would you mind going to the library to bring me a few books when you go to visit your parents?"
He rolled his eyes, folding his clothes and placing them into a drawer. "Why yes, dear, I would love to do your errands for you," he remarked snidely.
"I need you to get me a book on concealment charms," said Granger, closing the book in her hands. "A couple on confusion charms and a baby name book."
The last book caused him to blink furiously. "What?"
"I figured if we left that sitting around, it would make them think we are planning ahead," she explained.
"Right," was all he could respond with. Draco would not admit that it was actually a clever idea. He shoved aside the clothing Granger had put in the wardrobe. "You only have a small handful of clothing, yet you've decided to take up this entire thing? If you're going to be my wife—"
"Not by complete choice!"
He ignored her. "Then you need to realize this is my house, and keep your knickers out of my way."
"They are not in your bloody way."
"If I say they are, then they are."
Their petty argument was stopped by a knock on the door. Before either could respond the door had swung open and Lucius stepped in.
"This is a much more fitting room for the two of you to live in for now," he said, giving them an all-knowing smirk. "That is until the elves have finished cleaning the house in London."
Draco stopped his trifling task and looked at his father, giving him a look he could not read. "You're going to let us live in the house in London?" he asked inquisitively.
"Of course," he answered. "Did you think we'd make you stay here?"
"The fact that you have forced me to stay in bed the past few weeks just screams yes," he burst.
"We still need to put a few enchantments on it," said Lucius, ignoring Draco's outburst and instead looking at Granger. "However we would rather you stay until she is finally carrying."
"Then throw us out when we have no idea how to handle a pregnant woman?"
"Your mother and I think it would be good experience for the both of you," he answered, his face growing dark due to his repeated flare-ups. "Seeing as you will be raising a child."
"I will laugh in both your faces if I'm not even capable of carrying a child," said Granger suddenly. "My mother only had one child because she wasn't able to bear children. I was the miracle child that she did not miscarry."
Lucius glared at her, but did not speak. He moved back towards the door. "I will leave you both to your business now," he announced, banging the door behind him as he exited.
The next morning dawned, and Hermione turned over, throwing her arm to the side only to find something else already there. She grunted, moving farther to her edge of the bed. Malfoy had suggested it was best if either of his parents walked in for them to both be sleeping in the same bed. Besides the fact the only other place was the floor. After a heated argument, he angrily went into the bathroom to take a shower. Realizing he tricked her into falling asleep while he was away, she rolled onto her back once more and glanced over at him sleeping.
He was facing towards her, his eyes still closed, one arm across his chest lazily, the other hanging off the bedside. Once again she groaned, unable to grasp that she had in fact slept in the same bed as Malfoy. Her husband.
She had not planned on being married this young, only a day over eighteen. Always she had dreamt that her parents would be there, as would Harry, Ron and Ginny. Unless they got this annulled soon, those dreams would be shattered.
Malfoy was nothing she wanted in a man, emotionally or sexually. She didn't want him in any way, shape, or form.
She shuddered at the remembrance of the kiss they had to share in order to complete the ceremony. It had been quick kiss, lasting merely a second, but still, it had been with Malfoy.
With a sudden, almost moan, he turned over, falling on top of her, his head lying on the cushion of her chest, his arm pulling her closer.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed sleepily, but to no avail. Malfoy had proven himself to be a very heavy sleeper.
Before she could make any more of an attempt to disentangle herself from his body, there was a loud crack and a tiny house elf appeared at the foot of the bed, holding a large tray full of food.
She glanced downward at the dirt-sodden elf. "How are you doing this morning?" she asked her.
"Me?" she asked incredulously, as if she had never given thought to such a thing. "Why I am doing wonderfully, serving the great Malfoys, and his new bride!"
Hermione couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Oh yes," she deadpanned, "What a wonderful thing."
The elf did not catch the sarcasm and the tray flew into the air, floating in front of Hermione, barely an inch above Malfoy's head.
"Thank you very much," she told the elf. "But you need not stay; I'll bring the tray down to the kitchen when I'm done."
The elf bowed lowly, and with a crack, she was gone.
The second crack seemed to slightly stir the sleeping blonde, who turned over his head, mumbling. "I love you, Pansy."
"I am not Pansy!" she shouted, reaching to grab a muffin from the tray.
He only groaned a response.
Hermione sniffled as she bit into the muffin. Her head was hurting something awful.
Somehow, this sniffle is what startled Malfoy into consciousness, and his head shot up, hitting the tray with a loud thud and sending it upwards into the air, floating close to the ceiling.
"What the-!" he shouted as he glanced at the girl he had been clutching. He threw himself off with disgust. "Must you sniffle so loudly?" He groaned as he rolled back onto his side, turning his back to her.
"I think I'm coming down with a cold," she responded nonchalantly, trying to retrieve the tray from above her head.
"I was sleeping!"
She rolled her eyes, pulling the tray downward. "Do I look like I care?"
Malfoy turned and glared angrily at her, but did not speak.
While she was still downing the breakfast the house-elf had brought her, Malfoy stood from the bed and opened the bedroom door slightly, after closing it he turned back to Hermione, glared at her fleetingly, then turned into the bathroom, where he remained for a good twenty minutes.
Hermione only munched happily now that he had left the room. It gave her time to think without a glare being directed at her.
Alas, it was a very quick passing twenty minutes, and he returned to the room freshly showered but not changed, he was still wearing the pajamas he had gone to bed in.
Before she could question this, he spoke. "I suggest you do the same in case my parents do decide to not follow my request and visit," Malfoy told her. "If we are wearing normal day clothing, they might get suspicious that we aren't— well you get the idea."
She nodded, pushing the tray to the side, where it floated next to the wall. "I left you some food," she said.
He threw her a look of revulsion. "Are you suggesting I eat from the same plate as you?"
"Well, I am your wife, what's mine is yours, what's yours is mine," she replied, heading towards the bathroom for a shower of her own.
--
Having been three days since the reported nuptials of Hermione and Draco Malfoy, Ron was attempting to keep the house in a constant uproar.
"We should be out there finding them," he argued at dinner. "Force them out of hiding or something."
Mr. Weasley only shook his head and looked down at his plate of food. "If it were that easy, Ronald, we would have done it already."
"Dear, you need to remember Hermione is a very capable witch," Mrs. Weasley reminded him. "She can take care of herself."
"I agree with Molly," said Harry. "If she were in danger she would have sent immediate word and tried to escape."
"But they got her out by force, they got her from here, a place we considered almost as safe as Hogwarts," continued Ron, "They made her believe a false reality. If they could do that, I'm sure they could make her feel as if she were perfectly safe while torturing information out of her at the same time. Not to mention they forced her to marry Malfoy."
"We realize that, Ron," Harry interrupted. He was growing weary of Ron's constant state of rage. "But she obviously was allowed to contact us once, with Malfoy's own wand. Somehow, she and Malfoy seemed to have come to an agreement. I'm as worried as you, but we need to trust what she said. She said she would contact us and find us when the time came."
Ron stood up, throwing his fork down. "Am I the only one that cares?" he said angrily before once again storming upstairs.
Harry looked at Arthur and Molly apologetically before putting his own fork down and following Ron's path upstairs. Harry realized Hermione was in danger, but what was he supposed to do? The house the Malfoy's lived in was protected by a Fidelius Charm and no one they had on their side could enter. Only if Hermione could find a way out on her own could they help her.
After voicing this to Ron, who was sulking in his bed once more, he sat down next to him.
"I want Hermione back with us as much as you do—"
"No you don't, Harry," said Ron. "You just don't understand. I love her, Harry."
Harry sighed. "So you finally came to your senses about that, did you?"
Ron nodded. "I've never felt such a huge need for a person. Since she left, I haven't stopped thinking about her. Where she is, who she's with, why she left. Why she couldn't just stay here with me," said Ron. He shook his head and laughed sadly. "And now she's married to Draco sodding Malfoy."
Once again, Harry sighed. "Remember when you ate that fruit?" he asked. Ron nodded, recalling the terrible hours he spent desired Draco Malfoy. "The last fruit was obviously to get her to willfully marry him. They just found away around it. This obviously means that there's something going on."
Ron cringed and opened his mouth to speak before Harry cut him off. "Not in that way, Ron," he interjected. "I'm saying they must have a plan."
"Or they tricked her in another way."
"She would not have been able to send us a Patronus if under the Imperius Curse," reminded Harry. "She may been in danger, Ron, but I'm pretty sure we don't understand what kind of danger. We won't until she contacts us."
"I just always thought us three would be together until the end," said Ron truthfully. "I never imagined something like this tearing her away from us. From me. I realize she probably won't ever want me, Harry. But I just want her back to know she's safe."
"We'll get her back, Ron," Harry assured him. "We'll find a way to get her back."
--
It was several days later and not much had changed within the Malfoy household. The full, brown moving boxes placed in Draco and Granger's room were the only big difference.
They had been informed the day before by Narcissa that the house in London would be ready in only a few days, so they started packing. Narcissa also happened to slip Granger a catalog and gave her permission to order what ever she felt was necessary for the house and her.
"No need for furniture because I've taken care of that, but if you'd like some Muggle appliances, though I'd rather not have my son around that, feel free to buy some," she told Granger as she handed her the large glossy print book. "Be sure to get yourself some respectful clothing," she added as she noticed the clothes Granger was wearing were still not her own. "Don't spare expenses either, it's all on Lucius."
Draco had noticed his mother's generosity towards Granger and did not understand it. He felt there was an underlying cause he was not seeing.
As they were packing away the things they had (many things he had, rather), he decided to ask Granger if she knew why.
"I figured that you had a better idea of what your mother was up to," she told him as she closed a full box. "I honestly have no clue."
"Are you two plotting against me and my father?" he said, accusing them both of treason in his mind. His back got straight and his face got more serious. "If you are, let me tell you, Granger, we'll find out. If you are conspiring against the Dark Lord, it will not work out."
Granger turned to look at him. "You think that I'd conspire with your mother to ruin the plans we have already discussed?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "If I had decided to do that, it would have happened long before we went and got married."
He rolled his eyes. "There are many things my mother could convince you to do, even after our agreement," he responded. "I don't understand why she is being ever so nice to you."
"Neither do it."
"Well there we go, problem solved," he said, going back to his closet and pulling out an already full box. He knew the things inside it were things he would never need again and didn't bother trying to open it. He pushed aside and went further into the closet to retrieve another box.
Before he could act, however, Granger had walked over to the box and opened it. "What do you want me to..." her voice trailed off as she pulled out a photo album engraved with "Draco and Pansy."
"Get out of there!" he shouted, closing the space between them and ripping the book out of her hand. "That box contains personal things to me; don't put your Mudblood hands all over it."
She glared at him. "I'm sick of you treating me like complete dog shit," she shouted. "I'm following along with this brilliant plan of yours and you can't even give me a little bit of respect."
"The things in this box have nothing to do with you."
"The shit in that box has everything to do with the past," she said. "If your parents see that you are holding onto a box containing everything you did with Pansy, they'll figure us out."
"Everything in this box means more to me than you'll ever understand," he said. "I'm not going to let go of it because it's the only thing left of her."
Granger shook her head and sighed as Draco placed the photo album on top gently, tracing the engraving with his fingers.
"We'll everything we've got is already in boxes so I say we just call up the elves and have them deliver it for us," he told her after he had gotten the rest of the boxes out of his closet. He snapped his fingers after placing the last one near the door. With several cracks, about a dozen house-elves appeared and stood, waiting for their orders. "I want you to bring all these boxes, minus this one," he added, pointed to the box Granger could not touch, "to the house in London as my mother has already instructed you to. Unpack them and come back when you are finished."
They all nodded and bowed before snapping their own fingers and disappearing with all the boxes. Except for one.
--
Hermione looked at Malfoy as he ruffled through the box she wasn't allowed to touch. He picked up the photo album again and flipped through the pages, his face growing angrier as he did so.
She sat down on the newly made bed, her head on her hands. The past few days had been the most troubling of all for her mentally. She couldn't stop thinking about Harry and Ron, how they must be thinking since she first notified them she was safe. It took much convincing, but she finally had been able to persuade Malfoy into letting her send them a message.
It was after they had a plan made. Right before they called a Justice of the Peace to the house.
Everyone else had been sleeping, and thank god for that. If Lucius had found out what they were doing, he would have prevented it in any way.
The wedding he had planned with Narcissa was to be perfect. All the right people were to attend.
But not to Hermione. She had finally agreed with Malfoy that they would get married with no one there. Neither of them wanted to get married, let alone with a myriad of people they didn't know or remember.
The announcement in the Daily Prophet of course had not been the one Hermione and Malfoy had written, but rather the one Narcissa and Lucius had. Something had woken them up, or someone, rather. One of the guards must have seen the Justice of the Peace being led in by Malfoy.
Hermione couldn't imagine Ron and Harry's reaction as they flipped through the pages of the Evening Prophet, only to find out that she had wed one of their worst enemies. One of her worst enemies.
They had, of course, been caught by Narcissa and Lucius, as they had originally planned. Lucius had walked in just as their fates were sealed. Against expectations, however, he did not get mad, or angry. The elder Malfoy actually seemed to be content with their decision to marry secretly.
And so it was, they moved into a wing of their own until the house in London was finished. Now, all Hermione and Malfoy had to do was move there.
There was, however, the issue of having a child.
"They won't possibly let us move once they find I'm not pregnant," she said aloud to Malfoy, interrupting his exploration of the box.
He didn't bother to look up at her. "I'm sure they've decided we've given up," he said. "I've convinced my father very well that I force you to bed with me every night."
She grimaced at the thought. "Your mother told me they would check before we departed for London, though," she said, still considering what would happen if Lucius found out the only thing they had done was kiss when forced to do so.
Malfoy shrugged but did not respond, angering Hermione greatly. It all came down to this, if she wasn't with child, what would happen? Would their plan go down the drain? What would happen if they somehow knew? Would she be stuck in Malfoy Manor?
"You don't get it do you?" she shouted, infuriated at this point, tearing yet another photo album out of his hands and throwing it against the wall. "If they find out, Malfoy, we'll be stuck here. Our plan will go to the shitter, and we won't be able to do a bloody thing about it."
He stood up and before she could act, his hand came down hard across her face. The impact made her head turn and her hands went up to clutch her cheek.
They stood there for a moment, both unable to say anything. She looked at him with the deepest glare of disgust, but barely felt like she could breathe.
--
His breathing became heavy. What had he just done? He felt like putting his hands around her neck until she was blue.
"Don't ever do that again," he snapped.
"You hit me," was all she could say back, still holding her check with one hand.
"Now we're even, I guess," he shrugged, trying to forget what had just happened.
"I punched you in our third year, you git," she retorted. "And never did it hold as much malice as did you hitting me just now."
He took a step towards her that he didn't notice she had taken backwards. "I could kill you right now," he said through clenched teeth, pulling his wand from inside his robes and holding it to her chest.
"Go right ahead! Kill me if you want, put me out of my misery; you'll just be as bad as your father."
"What exactly is wrong with being my father?"
"Everything."
Without being able to control himself, purple fire flew from his wand and Granger was suddenly against the wall, grasping at her neck as if someone was strangling her. Her feet were dangling several feet above the ground as she was gasped for air.
"Take it back," he said forcefully. "Or so help me I will kill you."
She glared at him, still flailing her legs and trying to breath. He walked towards her once more, his wand still holding her up, until he was barely inches away. He lowered her to his eye level.
"You don't know what I've done, Granger," he said. "And you never, ever will. So forget everything you thought you knew about me. Because one of these days, you'll do something, and I won't stop myself. I won't be able to."
With that, she fell to the ground, taking deep, panting breaths for air. She lay there for several moments, unable to do much else. Draco looked down on her, aiming his wand once more before kicking her in the stomach and leaving her in the room alone.
He rushed down the hallway, feeling warm tears falling down his face. What had he just done? His anger took hold of him, and before he realized it she had been on the floor.
Slowly, he was becoming what his father was. And Draco would be damned if he'd let that happen.
Pansy would never have wanted that for him. And neither did he now.
--
Harry woke up early in the morning, but not by choice. Ron and he had stayed up late, discussing Hermione, the Horcruxes, the Final Battle. Everything. There was not a relevant topic they did not discuss. Ron told Harry he could not handle the thought of losing Hermione to someone he hated. Even if it was only a deal Hermione had made with the younger Malfoy. Harry could only tell him that things would work out eventually, and all Ron could do was wait. They had only an hour earlier decided it was time to save the conversation for the morning, and just as Harry was slipping into a dreamless sleep, came a knock on the window.
Harry heard it but rolled over, deciding it had to be a branch hitting the window due to wind. He started drifting off to sleep once more.
There was a tapping at the window once more. Stumbling to the window after giving up his rest, he could make out the figure of a large owl. Opening the window, it flew to the floor, dropping a parcel before swooping back to the windowsill. After giving Harry a knowing backward glance, the owl took off and flew into the night sky.
Harry took out his wand and poked the parcel a couple times, mumbling several things to make sure the package did not contain any Dark items that would kill him. The owl, he did not recognize. It's wings had been large and white, while it's chest was black.
Ron stirred. "What are you doing Harry?" he said, half-sleeping.
"You should wake up," Harry said, picking up the package. "I think this is going to be important."
Ron opened an eye to look at the parcel, then jumped up and went to Harry's side. "Be careful," he told Harry. "It could be anything."
"I have a feeling it's something good."
He tore open the brown paper and gave Ron one last glance before opening the box.